


we'll search for tomorrow (on every shore)

by summersocietyy



Series: some other existence [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25387780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summersocietyy/pseuds/summersocietyy
Summary: “That song was metrically perfect.” He blurts, and he could kick himself because that’s what she’s had to deal with on her arm since she was eighteen? But the smile that alights on her lips is stunning and could stop wars and Spencer wants to do whatever he can for the rest of his life to make sure that that smile stays there.OR the one where your soulmate's first words appear on your wrist on your 18th birthday.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: some other existence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836655
Kudos: 53





	we'll search for tomorrow (on every shore)

**Author's Note:**

> soulmate aus Part Two BABEY. this one was directly inspired by olivia holt's cover of come sail away from cloak and dagger and if you haven't listened to it (or watched cloak and dagger honestly) i suggest you do so yesterday!!!

Spencer Reid has never been a huge fan of holidays - and that includes his birthday.  _ Especially _ his eighteenth birthday. Eighteen means he’s old enough to send his mother to the sanitarium (which he doesn’t want to do, but he knows it’s for the best). Eighteen means he’s on his own (not for the first time, but it feels more permanent this time). And eighteen means that he’s about to get his soul words on his wrist. 

He wakes on October 28th and stares at his ceiling for a while, unmoving. He wonders if he’ll have any words at all - he’s heard of that, people not having soul words anywhere on their bodies. Most commonly they’re on one’s wrist, but they’ve been found on necks or ankles or shoulders before, too. A girl he’d gone to high school with had found hers on her left breast, just above her heart. He had found that appropriate - she was one of the only ones who’d ever been nice to him throughout his high school career.  _ She has a good heart _ , his mother had said once, and she’d been correct.

When he finally wills himself to lift his arms, he stares at his left sleeve for a few minutes before tugging it down - nothing. His heart sinks, and he realizes that he’s actually been  _ hoping _ the words would be there, because that would mean someone in the world is actually willing to put up with him. He drops his arms over his head, sighing slowly. He should’ve known better, really. It’s as he’s lifting his arms to haul himself out of bed and his right sleeve shifts that he notices the black spot on his right wrist.

He yanks it down quickly as he sits up and stares, because there on his right wrist, in a delicate, curving, script-like handwriting, are five simple words.

_ Come sail away with me. _

What the hell that means, he has no idea. Is someone going to ask him to join them on a boat? He’s not a huge boat person, but he thinks he could change that for his soulmate. He could learn to like boats. 

For the next four years, he learns everything he can about boats and sailing. When he joins the BAU, he finds that he has less and less time to actually learn more about boating, but that’s alright. He knows everything he needs to, he thinks. And he’s got this new little found family that makes him feel safe and warm and loved and they (for the most part) don’t make fun of him. Sure, they tease him, but he knows that it’s all done in good fun.

It’s in the summer of 2012 that Morgan convinces Spencer to join him and the rest of the team at an outdoor concert hosted by a local bar. It takes some serious convincing, but Spencer finally relents, knowing that Morgan won’t leave him alone until he agrees to go.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your soulmate here!” Morgan says, throwing an arm around Spencer’s shoulders as they make their way through the crowd. Spencer wrinkles his nose lightly, huffing quietly - soulmates are easy talk for Morgan, he’d found his  _ years _ ago, and they’ve been together ever since. 

“I doubt I’m gonna find my soulmate at a concert, Morgan.” Spencer says, stumbling over someone’s legs and righting himself quickly. He waves an apology to the girl he’d tripped over and hurries after Morgan, glaring at the older man as he laughs quietly and claps him on the back.

“Don’t knock it till you try it!” Emily says as they approach the corner of the field their team has claimed as their own. “I didn’t think I’d find my soulmate at a museum of all places, but here we are.” 

Spencer offers a wave to Emily’s aforementioned soulmate, a redhead named Amelia with a sweet Irish accent. Amelia waves back with a warm smile and scoots herself into Emily’s lap, kissing her cheek gently.

“Stranger things  _ have _ happened, Spence.” JJ agrees. Spencer hums and flops onto one of the blankets, folding his gangly legs beneath himself. 

“I think you’re gonna find ‘em tonight.” Penelope coos, leaning over to pinch Spencer’s cheek gently. He sputters a little and pushes at her hand gently, wrinkling his nose again when she laughs at him. 

“I’m just saying, I don’t think a  _ concert _ is gonna be the kind of place I find my soulmate.” Spencer says, taking a bite of the trail mix granola bar JJ tosses at him.

“You don’t even know what kind of concert it is! Maybe it’s a jazz concert!” Savannah pipes up from her spot beside Morgan. 

“If it was a jazz concert, Rossi would be here.” Spencer says. Savannah tosses a chip at him and he ducks out of the way, then looks up as microphone feedback whines through the field and a blonde girl slips onto the stage that’s been set up. From here, he can see enough to acknowledge that she’s quite pretty. He claps politely as the rest of the crowd cheers.

“Hey hey hey! How’s everyone doin’ tonight?” The blonde calls into the microphone. She’s met with whoops and hollers, and the grin that lights up her face sparkles in her eyes. “That’s what I like to hear! I’m Molly, and we are Murder of Crows! We’ve got some great shit planned tonight, so I hope y’all enjoy!”

They waste no time in getting into the music, and Spencer wants to leave almost immediately. He can appreciate rock music, sure, but he prefers to do that from the comfort of his own car or apartment and let the music come in through a window from someone else’s car or apartment. Mostly he feels like it’s too loud and jarring and there’s too much going on. This is no exception.

He’d be lying if he said the lead singer - Molly - wasn’t infectious in her energy, though. The rest of the group is laughing and singing along or chattering amongst themselves, but Spencer can’t take his eyes off of the blonde bouncing around the stage as she belts out a handful of Queen and AC/DC and Led Zeppelin songs. They’ve been performing for about twenty minutes when she stops in the middle of the stage to take a breath and chug half of the bottle of water she’d brought on stage with her.

“Okay!” She crows into the microphone, grinning around the crowd. Her eyes land on Spencer for a millisecond and he feels his heart jump as she smiles at him before her gaze moves on. “This next song is one of my personal favorites - it’s the first one I ever learned to play on my guitar, actually. It’s one of the first songs I remember listening to with my dad as a kid and I’ve known the words by heart since I was.. Oh, let’s say four years old?” 

There’s a handful of cheers and the guy at the keyboard starts playing a gentle melody - one Spencer thinks he recognizes, but he can’t quite remember.

“Oh, shit, I love this song!” Emily crows, swaying with Amelia. Spencer watches Molly on the stage as she sways in place, setting her microphone in the stand and taking her guitar when a roadie hurries onto the stage and presses it into her hands. She settles the strap around her neck as she sings. As the second verse comes to a close, Molly slams out a chord and starts strumming like she was born doing it. Spencer jumps a little at the sudden change, ignoring Morgan laughing at him quietly, and stares at Molly as she continues singing.

And then she gets to the chorus, and Spencer chokes on the bottle of water he’s been drinking from throughout the evening, because she’s looking directly at him, pointing at him even, and singing the words on his wrist and  _ holy shit is she his soulmate?! _

Holy shit, she’s his soulmate. 

Morgan notices him staring more intently at the blonde on the stage now and claps him on the shoulder. 

“You doin’ okay, pretty boy?” He asks, raising a brow. “You look like you saw a ghost.” Spencer turns to him slowly, his eyes wide, and Morgan’s brows furrow. “Seriously kid, are you okay?”

“I - she-” Spencer says dumbly, looking back to the stage. Unable to form the words, he tugs his right sleeve up and shoves his wrist at Morgan. Morgan sputters a little, taking Spencer’s hand and looking over the worst on his wrist for a moment, then looks up at Spencer slowly, the biggest grin Spencer’s ever seen overtaking his face.

“No shit.” He says softly. Emily glances over and raises her brows. 

“What’s going on?” She asks, leaning over. Morgan beams at her.

“We gotta get pretty boy backstage.” He says, holding up Spencer’s wrist. Emly leans closer and reads the words, then gasps loudly and grins.

“Oh, my god!” She shouts, and suddenly everyone on the team is clambering to look at Spencer’s arm. Usually the crowding would overwhelm him, but he finds that he’s focused on Molly again as she sings the chorus at the top of her lungs for a second time. He’s vaguely aware of Penelope grabbing his shoulders and shaking them as she shouts something about  _ I knew you’d find her tonight! _

As the concert winds down, Morgan hauls Spencer to his feet and shouts that they’ll be back soon, shoving Spencer towards the stage. The closer they get to the stage, the more Spencer panics, and when they’re thirty feet away he digs his heels into the dirt and tugs on Morgan’s arm.

“I can’t do it.” He gasps. Morgan stops and raises his brows.

“Reid, she’s your  _ soulmate _ .” He says, glancing towards the stage. Molly had disappeared off the stage not long ago, heading down the stairs at the side and doing who knows what backstage. Spencer shakes his head quickly and turns around, ready to head right back to the car and go home.

“She can’t be.” He says, shaking his head again. “She can’t - just because-”

“Just because she sang the words on your wrist she can’t be your soulmate?” Morgan asks, crossing his arms. He stands in front of Spencer now, blocking his exit, and Spencer grimaces. “She looked right at you - she  _ pointed at you _ , kid. You’ve spent how long thinking that your soulmate was gonna ask you to join them on a boat and now that someone’s said your words you can’t do it?”

“Why would she want me?” Spencer asks suddenly, his voice bursting out of his chest a little louder than he means for it to. Morgan stops and frowns, watching Spencer for a moment before the younger man continues. “She sings in a  _ rock band _ , Morgan. Even from back there I could see that she’s covered in tattoos and she’s got a ton of piercings - she’s  _ so cool _ . And I’m just..” He gestures vaguely at himself, sighing quietly. “I’m just me.” He finishes quietly.

Morgan starts to say something in return, then snaps his mouth shut and plants his hands on Spencer’s shoulders. Before Spencer can ask what he’s doing, Morgan spins him around quickly and heads in the other direction, leaving Spencer face-to-face with Molly. Spencer stares at her for a moment and when she smiles, his heart jerks into his throat and he kind of feels like he’s going to puke.

“Hi.” She says, and her voice is warm and sweet and a little scratchy which is to be expected, since she just sang about a thousand classic rock songs for two-and-a-half hours. And Spencer was right - she’s  _ covered _ in ink. He can see it under the deep v-neck of her dress, can see it on the exposed skin of her arms and legs. She has a ring in her nose and several in her ears and  _ god she’s even prettier up close _ . She raises a perfectly arched brow at him, clearly waiting for some sort of response, and Spencer panics.

“That song was metrically perfect.” He blurts, and he could kick himself because _ that’s _ what she’s had to deal with on her arm since she was  _ eighteen? _ But the smile that alights on her lips is stunning and could stop wars and Spencer wants to do whatever he can for the rest of his life to make sure that that smile stays there. 

“Y’know,” Molly hums, stepping forward and looping her arm through his without hesitation, “I always kinda knew I wanted to study music, but when that showed up on my wrist on my birthday, it was like fate. Like the universe was telling me I’d chosen the right thing to major in.” Spencer nods as she turns them around and starts meandering through the crowd. 

“I’m uh - I’m glad you pursued it. Your voice is incredible.” He says, finally finding his voice. Molly beams up at him and squeezes his arm lightly. “And - how long have you been playing the guitar?”

“My dad started teaching me when I was five.” She tells him, pausing at one of the food trucks on the edge of the field. “He got me my first real guitar when I was eight. Up till then, I just used his.” Spencer nods slowly, watching Molly as she steps forward and asks for an order of fries and looks at him expectantly. He shakes his head and she hums, paying the pimply kid in the truck and stepping to the side. She leans against the side of the truck, watching Spencer as he stands before her. 

“So what do you do?” She asks, tipping her head.

“Uh - I work for the FBI.” Spencer says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Molly whistles low and grins at him.

“FBI, huh? That’s pretty dope. What do you do there?” He watches her for a moment, still completely blown away that she’s his  _ soulmate _ , before he answers.

“I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” He tells her. When she raises a curious brow, he clears his throat. “We catch serial killers.”

“No shit!” She gasps, eyes widening just so. “That’s  _ so cool _ . You’re like a superhero.” Spencer blinks at her, completely taken aback by this statement, but she pays his surprise no mind as she steps up and takes her order of fries. She starts wandering away and Spencer hurries after her, falling into step beside her.

“What about you?” He asks, watching her as she nibbles at her fries. “Is the band your full-time job, or?”

“Oh, hell no.” She laughs, shaking her head. “No, the band is more of a hobby than anything else. I’m a high school music teacher. I thought about being an elementary music teacher, but I don’t think I’d do too well with the little kids.” Spencer nods again, glancing to the side as they pass the team on their blankets, all of whom are beaming at him and giving him various thumbs up and other signs of encouragement. He ignores them.

Molly manages to find a quieter area of the field and lets herself flop into the grass, setting the paper box of fries between them as Spencer settles beside her.

“How’d you decide you wanted to teach music?” Spencer asks, glancing at her. Molly hums, popping another fry into her mouth.

“It was the only thing I was good at in school.” She hums. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t the only thing.” Spencer says. Molly gives him a look and he frowns thoughtfully.

“It’s a miracle I graduated, honestly. I’ve got ADHD and I’m dyslexic, so reading music can be a nightmare, but reading a book or trying to do a math problem was always a thousand times worse.” She says, her voice dropping just so. Spencer glances at her, watching her for a moment, and he can tell that this isn’t something she talks about often. “Kids made fun of me a bunch, so I think I managed to graduate purely out of spite.”

“I got bullied, too.” He tells her softly. She glances at him, tipping her head, and drags her hair over one shoulder absently as he continues. “I was a - a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. Kids were ruthless.” 

“What kinda child prodigy are we talking here?” She asks, pushing the fries out of the way and scooting closer. Spencer watches as she reaches out and takes his hand, her little fingers brushing along his knuckles slowly. He shivers at the contact as he tells her about some of the things he dealt with in high school and college, and he appreciates that she listens quietly and doesn’t fire a million questions at him as he talks.

He’s not sure exactly how long they sit there talking and getting to know each other, but by the time Morgan comes over to find him, Spencer knows that Molly’s favorite color is yellow, she had a pet rat as a teenager that passed two years ago, and her father is one of the most important people in her life. And Molly knows that Spencer has an IQ of 187, his favorite movies are the original Star Wars trilogy, and he thinks that dogs are the worst and much prefers cats. He doesn’t want to leave her - he’d much rather sit here for the rest of the night getting to know everything about her, but she tells him she has to go help finish cleaning up the stage and get everything packed away into their van. 

Before they part ways, she grabs his hand and tugs a pen out of her pocket, scribbling her phone number on his palm with a heart. “Call me soon, okay?” She says softly. When Spencer nods, she grins sweetly at him and leans over to plant a kiss on his cheek before she gets up and runs away, shouting for one of the members from the band as she nears them. Spencer stares after her, completely dumbfounded, and Morgan laughs quietly, hauling him off the ground.

“Come on, pretty boy.” He says, tugging Spencer towards the cars. “You can call her tomorrow.”

****

Calling her tomorrow isn’t a thing that happens, and Spencer  _ hates _ the unsub who causes their newest case in LA. In fact, he doesn’t get a chance to call Molly until they’ve apprehended the unsub and everyone is back in their hotel rooms for the night. As Morgan goes into the bathroom to shower, Spencer perches in a chair by the window, tapping on Molly’s contact on his phone screen and putting the phone to his ear. He worries for a moment that she won’t answer, that the fact that he hasn’t called her until now has made her change her mind - but the phone stops ringing and he hears rustling and his heart resumes its normal pace in his chest.

“Hello?” She mumbles on the other end of the line, and Spencer’s eyes widen.

“I woke you up.” He says. He hears her huff out a quiet laugh and some more rustling as she shifts in her bed.

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” She yawns. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

“Never.” He assures her, grimacing. “I’m so sorry I woke you up - you should get back to sleep, we can talk tomorrow-”

“Spencer.” She says. The sound of her still-tired voice saying his name makes his heart leap and he falls quiet. “It’s okay. ’m glad you called. You had a case, you said? How’s it going?”

“We caught the guy.” He tells her, shifting in his chair and watching out the window as they talk. “We should be home tomorrow afternoon.” She hums on the other end of the line, and he can hear a smile in her voice when she speaks again.

“We should get dinner or something. Celebrate a case gone right.” She says. Spencer smiles a little, ducking his head. 

“We should.” He agrees. They talk for a while longer, Spencer only hanging up reluctantly when Morgan comes out of the bathroom and tosses a pillow at him. 

“Call me when you land, okay?” Molly says softly. Spencer nods, stifling his own yawn behind his hand.

“I will.” He promises.

“Fly safe.” Is the last thing she says, and when they mumble sleepy goodbyes and hang up their phones, Spencer crawls into bed and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

When they finally land and get home the next day, he keeps his promise and calls Molly. She doesn’t answer, he assumes because she’s in class, but she calls him back promptly at 3:35, sounding much more awake, and eagerly agrees when he asks if she wants to get dinner at the diner on third. He arrives in a button-down and slacks, having stopped home to change out of plane-clothes quickly. Molly arrives ten minutes after he does, in a white bustier under a red button-down, black jeans, and heels that would make Penelope Garcia jealous. She falls into the booth opposite him, grinning broadly, and he feels a sense of calm wash over him as she asks about his week and the case and he asks about her students. 

****

Molly roars into Spencer’s life like a hurricane. And honestly, he couldn’t be happier. She opens his eyes to a million new things, she never tells him to stop talking when he’s been rambling for five minutes - in fact, she sits there and listens to him talk with the sweetest smile on her face. When they lay in bed together and she rests her hand over his heart, she asks him quiet question after quiet question and he answers all of them patiently while he plays with her hair - which he learns that she loves.

It’s one of these nights that they’re curled up together that Molly asks about his family and she feels him tense under her touch. She lifts her head, resting her chin against his chest before she shifts up and brushes his hair back gently.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She says softly, and Spencer shakes his head - it’s these moments where she’s soft and quiet, so very different from the way she usually is, that throw him off. He brushes his hand along her back slowly, smiling just so at the way she shivers when the pads of his fingers dip beneath the hem of her t-shirt and drag along her hip lightly. He stays quiet for a few minutes, appreciating her patience as he works through what exactly he wants to say.

And when he finally does speak, he finds himself spilling everything to her. Everything about his mother’s schizophrenia and his father leaving, everything about how it fell to him to take care of the bills more often than not and how, until he’d started working at the BAU and had been invited to Penelope’s house for Christmas their second year working together, he’d never  _ really _ had a properly home-cooked meal.

Molly’s heart aches desperately for him, but she says nothing. Instead, she listens silently, pressing closer and winding her arms around him tightly when he finishes his story. He settles his own arms around her shoulders and closes his eyes, reveling in her presence, and lets her slow breathing relax him. She props herself up on her elbows gently after a few minutes, watching him, then shifts over to straddle his hips. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, laughing softly. She smiles down at him, brushing her hands down his arms and threading her fingers through his when their hands connect.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” She murmurs. Spencer blinks up at her, not having expected that at all. Before he can ask her to elaborate, she continues, drawing her hands from his and cupping his cheeks. “I just - God, Spencer, all this shit you’ve been through.. You could’ve taken it all and turned into a serial killer. Plus, with your IQ, you’ve got all the makings of like, the  _ perfect _ supervillain. Superman ain’t got nothin’ on you, baby.” 

Spencer laughs softly at that, but says nothing - he knows from the look in her eyes that Molly isn’t done yet.

“But instead you’ve taken it all in stride and just.. You’ve turned into this incredible, gentle, kind man, and it’s just - it’s amazing.” She continues softly. “You’re amazing.”

For a few long moments, Spencer simply stares up at Molly. She’s beginning to wonder if she’s said just a little too much when she notices in the rapidly-fading afternoon light that his eyes are bright and he’s smiling. Before she can say anything, Spencer sits up and wraps his arms around her waist, turning them and tossing her against the mattress gently. He props himself above her on his arms and leans down to kiss her softly, slowly, soundly.

She laughs softly into his mouth, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he kisses her again and again, and the sound makes his heart soar.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispers breathlessly when he pulls away. Molly nods, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones delicately. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet you. And then - and then the night of the concert, I almost didn’t. Morgan had to practically drag me to the stage and I was about to leave when you came out. I was terrified.”

“Of what?” She whispers back, bumping her nose against his gently. He shrugs a little.

“That you wouldn’t want me.”

Molly jerks her head back at that, frowning at him. “Spencer.” She says softly, her heart cracking. “Why wouldn’t I want you?” He shrugs again, avoiding her gaze.

“We’re just.. So different. Y’know?” He mumbles. “Molly, you’re like.. The kind of girl who would’ve kicked my ass in school. You’re a thousand times cooler than I am.” Molly shakes her head, tugging on Spencer’s cheeks gently to get him to meet her eyes.

“Baby, I would’ve kicked the asses of the girls who kicked your ass in school.” She assures him gently. She tips her head when he looks up at her, and her heart breaks to see so many years of sadness in his hazel hues. Her voice drops to a whisper. “Can I tell you something?”

Spencer hums in response, watching her.

“I was terrified to meet you, too.” She whispers. “But I’m so glad I did.” Spencer watches her for a moment, then leans down and kisses her again. When he pulls back, there are tears in his eyes, but they’re not tears of sadness or fear or anxiety.

“I love you.” He breathes. She blinks and beams up at him, whispering the words back as she hauls him down for another kiss.

No, these are tears of happiness. 

****

  
  


Over the next few months, Molly and Spencer visit each other at work a handful of times. She brings him lunch at the BAU when she has half-days or school is closed (and quickly becomes best friends with Penelope). He stops by to see her at school when he’s got a day off or they’re nearby for a case or he’s out grabbing lunch.

The first day he comes to see her at school, he almost dies of embarrassment. He gets a visitors badge from the receptionist at the front desk and follows the directions she gives him, heading up the stairs and down two long hallways. He’s halfway down the second hall when he hears music floating towards him and he smiles when he recognizes the strains of a now-familiar AC/DC song.

He stops outside the music room door, peeking in through the window and grinning when he sees Molly standing at the front of the room, guitar in hand as she plays through the song with three other students holding guitars. He opens the door and pokes his head in, slipping all the way in and hovering by the door. He can see almost immediately that he’s caught the attention of two female students, who start whispering to themselves almost immediately, and for half a second, he’s transported back to his own high school days.

“Miss Molly!” One of the girls shouts. Molly stops her playing and looks up, raising a brow. The girl points towards the door and Molly turns with a grimace, half-expecting to see the principal (who doesn’t exactly approve of her unorthodox lessons or music choices). When she spies Spencer, however, her face lights up and she hurries to put her guitar down, then runs across the room and throws her arms around him. He catches her easily, laughing softly when she presses a kiss to his cheek.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting home today!” She says, grinning up at him. He chuckles and shrugs.

“I wanted to surprise you.” He tells her.

“Well, consider me surprised.” She says, beaming at him. She leans up and kisses him lightly, pulling away and rolling her eyes when a handful of students wolf-whistle and  _ oooooh _ at them. Spencer’s cheeks burn and he’s pretty sure they’re the same shade of red as Molly’s lipstick.

“Miss Molly’s got a boyfriend!” One of the other girls coos, her tone playfully teasing. Molly digs a piece of paper out of her pocket and tosses it at the girl, sticking her tongue out.

“Miss Molly’s got a  _ soulmate _ , Beth.” She retorts, grinning when the girl - Beth - gapes at her. Before anyone can ask any questions, the bell rings and Molly steps away from Spencer, shouting something about auditions as the kids gather up their things and rush out of the room. When everyone is gone, she bounces back over to Spencer and grins up at him. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss her softly. She hums sweetly, grinning against his mouth. 

“I don’t have any more classes for the day. Wanna go get lunch?” She asks.

“ _ Please _ .” He says, eyes widening comically. “The food on the jet? Not great.” 

****

The first time Molly visits him at the BAU, he almost doesn’t see her - and that’s only because Penelope gets to her first. He’s coming out of the bathroom, drying his hands with a paper towel when he hears the familiar  _ click-click-click _ of Penelope’s sky-high heels, accompanied by the familiar  _ clomp-clomp-clomp _ of a pair of worn Doc Martens he’s come to know  _ very _ well. 

He looks up, surprised, and sure enough, Molly is wandering down the hallway with Penelope, laughing brightly at something the other blonde has said. Spencer simply watches their interaction for a moment, his heart squeezing almost painfully within his ribs. Molly almost doesn’t even see him, wrapped up in her conversation with Penelope as she is, so he reaches out and snakes an arm around her waist, grinning when she squeaks. She looks up, relaxing when she realizes it’s him that’s grabbed her, and leans up to kiss him gently.

“Hi.” She hums.

“Hi.” He returns, then looks at Penelope.

“I was gonna bring her back!” Penelope says guiltily. Molly laughs, worming out of Spencer’s arms gently and taking his hand instead.

“She said the magic words, bubs, I had to go with her.” Molly says, giggling when Spencer raises a brow. “ _ I have chocolate and pictures of boy genius when he first started with the BAU. _ ” She quotes. Spencer blanches a little and Molly laughs more, squeezing his hand. Molly chatters with Penelope for a few more minutes before tugging on Spencer’s hand gently.

“I came to take Spencer out to lunch, though, so we should go.” She says, looking up at him. Spencer shakes himself a little and nods quickly, turning and practically dragging Molly away from Penelope. Both blondes laugh brightly.

“Garcia!” He calls, glancing at her over his shoulder as he jabs at the button for the elevator. Penelope raises her brows. “Delete those pictures!” 

“I’ll do no such thing!” She calls after them, grinning wickedly as the doors woosh closed before them. Spencer groans, and Molly laughs again, leaning against him.

“They can’t be  _ that _ bad.” She says, giggling when Spencer glowers down at her. 

“Trust me. They are.” He tells her, wrinkling his nose. 

****

  
  


This case?  _ Sucked _ . Spencer?  _ So _ glad to be home. Even if home means stopping at the BAU first to do some paperwork and get his car before he actually goes home-home and wraps himself up in a blanket and Molly’s welcoming arms.

He’s not entirely sure what he expects to see as he comes off the elevator with the rest of the team, but it definitely isn’t Molly, looking way more dressed down than she usually is, chattering with Penelope just outside the BAU bullpen. He shuffles out after everyone else and stops short when he sees her, brows furrowing just so. Her blonde hair is pulled into a lazy ponytail, and her usual too-large t-shirt and ripped jeans have been replaced with leggings and one of his own sweaters. The sleeves fall past her hands, her fingers curling in the ends, and he stares for a moment.

But when she smiles at him, he rushes forward and drags her into his arms, hugging her as tightly as he can. She squeaks, winding her arms around his neck and brushing a hand through his hair gently.

“Hello to you, too.” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to his temple. Spencer closes his eyes and exhales unsteadily, holding her closer and pressing his face to her shoulder. She leans back just so, cupping his cheeks and lifting his head to catch her eyes. “Rough case?” She asks softly. Spencer nods, sniffling a little, and she nods back. “C’mon. I’m gonna take you home.”

“I have paperwork-” He starts, but she cuts him off, shaking her head and pushing him back towards the elevator gently.

“Paperwork will be there tomorrow.” She says, her voice gentle but no-nonsense. He’s too tired to argue with her and when he catches Hotch’s eye over Molly’s shoulder, Hotch nods at him and waves. He nods back, shuffling back into the elevator behind Molly and closing his eyes when she wraps her arms around him again. “What do you want when we get home?” She asks softly. Spencer hums quietly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Soup?” He asks quietly. He can feel Molly nod against his temple gently. “And a grilled cheese?”

“Soup and grilled cheese it is.” She murmurs. In the parking garage, she leads him to his car and opens the passenger door, taking his bag as he climbs in. She settles his bags in the backseat and climbs into the drivers side, turning the radio down as she starts the car. Instead of her usual music, she turns it to the classical station she knows that he likes and he closes his eyes, letting the sense of being home wash over him. 

When they get back to the apartment, Molly leads him upstairs and pushes him to the bathroom for a shower gently. She takes care of unpacking and repacking his go-bag, tossing the dirty clothes into the washer and putting clean clothes in before setting the bag by the front door.

When Spencer emerges from the shower, feeling much more refreshed and relaxed, and sees his go-bag by the door and Molly in the kitchen, puttering around to make dinner while she sings quietly with whatever is playing from her phone, he makes a split-second decision and pads back into the bedroom.

He re-emerges a few minutes later, his heart thundering in his chest as he approaches Molly in the kitchen. She’s removed her (his) sweater and opted for a crop top that just barely brushes the bottom of her ribcage instead. She glances over her shoulder when she hears him coming and offers a tender smile.

“Feel better?” She asks. Spencer nods, watching as she grins at him and turns back to the stove. “Good. Food’s allllmost ready.” He waits until she’s removed everything from the stove before he clears his throat and says her name quietly. When she turns back around to see him down on one knee, a small, black velvet box clutched in his long fingers, her breath catches in her throat and she puts her hands to her chest instantly.

“Spencer-” She breathes, eyes welling with tears.

“This wasn’t how I planned on doing this.” He tells her softly. “I - I had a whole speech planned and I was gonna do it at one of Rossi’s family dinners, but.. But one time Hotch told me that he’d had this whole plan on how he was gonna ask Haley to marry him and then he just did it while they were watching a movie one night instead because it just felt right and this - Molly, this feels right,  _ everything _ with you feels right, and I just-” He stops himself, swallowing thickly. “I love you, Molly. Will you marry me?” 

Molly, speechless and completely dumbfounded, says nothing. For a solid forty-five seconds she just stares at him, eyes watering, before she comes back to her senses as Spencer starts to wonder if her answer is  _ no _ . 

“Yes!” She gasps, waving her hands at him quickly. He relaxes instantly, a smile replacing the nervous look on his face. “Yes, you big dummy, of course!” She hurries forward and grabs his face as he stands, crashing her lips against his in a sloppy, eager,  _ happy _ kiss. He laughs against her mouth, pulling away long enough to slide the ring onto her finger before she drags him into another kiss.

Eight months later, they dance to Come Sail Away at their wedding.


End file.
